


My Son

by Zootopon



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Angst, BAMF Jason Todd, CEO!Jason, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mother-Son Relationship, Red Hood: Lost Days Divergence, Rehabilitation, mom!talia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zootopon/pseuds/Zootopon
Summary: With his mother, every horrific memory, every traumatizing dream felt so distant. Bruce promised him that he would do anything for Jason. Talia made the same promise. But unlike Bruce, she fulfilled that promise at every turn. Watching him grow, she wanted to give him the world.And She did.





	1. A Changed Man

“Honey! I’m home.” Jason called out into his Metropolis condo.

He could hear an annoyed groan stretch across the hallway. “Jason. It was not funny the first time you said it and it certainly isn’t funny now.” His mother responded.

Walking into the living room, Jason felt the day’s stress and anxiety wash away. His mother was elegantly sipping what smelled like Jasmine tea whilst reading the latest financial reports. Never in a million years did Jason ever consider anywhere else than Gotham as home. Yet, Talia made this vast and spacious penthouse warm and inviting. Pictures of their time together were framed on bench tops, his University Degree hung triumphantly above the fireplace and the smell of lavender always seemed to fill the air.

“But you love my charming wit.” He walked behind the couch and gently clasped his arms around Talia, kissing her cheek.

She hummed, leaning into the kiss. “I love you, Jason. However, you’re sense of humour is a different debate.”

Pulling away, Jason made his way to his bedroom wanting to get out of the monkey suit as soon as possible. Pulling on his comfort clothes, long black pants and a red hoodie, Jason made his way back.

Without looking away from the reports, she lifted her arms invitingly. Seeing the opportunity, Jason made way and laid down, resting his head against her lap. All tension left his body when he felt her fingers slowly stroke his scalp.

He purred at the sensation and didn’t notice the small, fond smile Talia had. “How was your day?”

“Peterson is a downright prick.”

“Language.” She said sternly.

“Pot. _Fucking_. Kettle.” He snipped back earning him a quiet chuckle.

Rolling onto his back, he looked up at his mom and asked himself the same question he had every single day. _How the hell did this happen?_

He wasn’t supposed to come back. He wasn’t supposed to be here, now, with her. He wasn’t supposed to be a _summa cum laude_ graduate. He wasn’t supposed to be this corporate symbol of hope. Yet, here he was. With Talia. With his mother, every horrific memory, every traumatising dream felt so distant. Bruce promised him that he would do anything for Jason. Talia made the same promise. But unlike Bruce, she fulfilled that promise at every turn.

“Stop thinking.”

“What?” Looking confused at his mother.

“There are certain times and places where such thoughts are unnecessary. Laying down, enjoying the company of your mother is one of those times.” She stated simply.

Jason didn’t say anything further and merely let himself go as his mother gently stroked his head. They fell into a comfortable silence. One where conversation wasn’t needed. No mentions of training, work, bats or trauma. Just a mother and a child occupying the same space with only the sounds from the stereo to break the silence.

Talia stared at her son. Stared at the man that laid his head on her legs. The man that struggled, fought and survived the worst the world had to offer. At every turn, every obstacle, every hardship he always managed to astound her. Jason was many things, but the one thing Talia learnt during her time with him was that he was a walking contradiction. A boy in a man’s body. A soldier and a civilian. A scholar and a brute. A killing machine and a kind-hearted soul.

He was many things but the one thing he isn’t is a Son of Batman. He was hers. No Ras demanding an heir. No Bruce forcing a child away from his mother.

Hers.

She never thought she would ever have the pleasure of watching a son grow. Bruce had taken Damian away from her but with Jason…he wasn’t bound by conventional parental custody. He was a ghost, a blank slate. But she had never meant for him to be her son. He was _supposed_ to be a gift. He was _supposed_ to go to Bruce. But Jason chose otherwise. Jason didn’t want Bruce, Jason didn’t want another parent and for good reason. Yet, here they were, through circumstances and death, mother and son. Talia Head and Jason Head.

She knew Jason still held insecurities of being _the second choice._ With Bruce, he was the second choice to Richard, and with Talia, he was the second choice to Damian. But being the walking contradiction he was, had learnt from his past and accepted it. He accepted Damian will always have a special place in her heart. He accepted that she loved him as her own. He accepted that he was her son.

Taking her time training him did wonders to his psyche. Time and care, far from Ras or Bruce slowly unravelled the mess of emotions he once bundled within him. Jason didn’t give up on Bruce, giving up was far beneath him, instead he had moved on. Away from idealistic morals, away from broken promises, away from _him._

Jason still couldn’t believe that they had become so close. He saw the loneliness she hid behind layers of confidence and determination, because he knew that look all too well. He saw it every time he looked into a mirror. He saw the distant looks into the night sky, the lingering touches of family portraits and the deep, sorrowful sighs she allowed only when she _believed_ she was alone.

He saw it all and he wanted to change it all. It wasn’t some deep twisted voice in his head telling him to mess with Bruce, it wasn’t his abandonment issues telling him to fill the parental void in his life. It was the simple want to help someone else.

So, he followed her around the world, improving his abilities and peppering her with affection. Their love for each other was pure, unorthodox yet true. Watching him grow, she wanted to give him the world.

And she did.

She found the best teachers she could find, sent numerous subordinates scouring the globe for ancient texts and watched him with pride throwing his graduation cap high into the air at Cambridge University.

She had heard what Bruce had said about Jason. How he’s reckless, arrogant and most importantly, how _stupid_ he was. An unbridled rage coursed through her very being listening in on the Cave’s CCTV logs. Jason wasn’t some uncultured rat that Bruce had picked up. Jason _was_ a Robin. A Robin that had read every book within the Manor at least once. A Robin that excelled in all things knowledge. Whatever he didn’t know, he sought out. Whatever he did know, he improved. Talia knew that and her hatred for Bruce grew because _Bruce knew that._

Bruce knew how gifted Jason was.

Bruce knew that Jason yearned for new knowledge.

Bruce knew that Jason would excel at anything if he put his mind to it.

Bruce _knew_ and he disregarded those memories, humiliated Jason’s existence, and defiled his legacy, just so Bruce could blame a child, _his child_ , for dying. Many call it a coping mechanism. Talia calls it cowardice.

Talia knew how gifted Jason was and unlike Bruce, did not keep a leash on _her_ child. Her company had many subsidiary firms under her control and in turn gave the rights of one to Jason. She did not restrain him, she did not question his every motive. She trusted Jason.

She trusted her son and he did wonders.

It was a small pharmaceutical firm located in Metropolis and Jason proved himself worthy of such a role. He was always the first to arrive and last to leave. The company made leaps and bounds with his business strategies, particularly with Jason’s strict employment criteria. Struggling parents, homeless beggars, unemployed Veterans were some of the many he sought out, interviewed and recruited. He travelled the world, Gotham in particular, giving those that lived in the most down trodden parts of society a chance to not only survive but _live._

Many complained about the potential backlash and branding nightmare his vision encompassed but none of them were Jason. Jason scouted for those that were very much like him. A diamond in the rough. Smart, resourceful with a need and want to do right by others as Jason did to them. People looked up to him for guidance and care. They trusted him because he was one of them. They trusted him because he was born in the dirt, grime and blood of the forsaken. He listened to their pleas, he cared for the young, old, sick and broken.

In times of crisis, in times of need, the rich and healthy turned to Superman, the poor and broken turned to Jason.

Mother and son to one of the biggest multi-national conglomerates the world had to offer. Talia and Jason weren’t hiding anymore. She proudly displayed her son for the entire world to see and the fact that Batman and his team had not heard of Jason’s achievements humoured and infuriated her. All they cared about was her. They only cared about the Heir to the Demon attaining resources and connections, not the mysterious young CEO that was always by her side. A mysterious CEO named _Jason._ That alone should have set alarm bells ringing. Instead, they watched her whilst they continued their ways spouting lies of second chances and redemption. It saddened her immensely when she brought it up in conversation with her son and he merely shrugged, _I stopped expecting anything from them._

~

“Mr Head?” Jason’s personal assistant knocked on his office door. “Mr Kent from the Daily Planet has arrived.”

Reading the latest reports of Batman and his brood, Jason looked up and kindly smiled. “Thank you, Mira. Wait five minutes before sending him in. I need to clean up this mess.” Looking at the pile of papers scattered across his desk. Mira nodded, quickly turning around to leave.

“Oh, and Mira?” She turned towards him once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? Please call me Jason.” For four months Jason had tried to get her to call him by his first name, and for four months he had failed miserably. Today was no exception.

“Your mother would have my hide for calling you anything else.” She stated simply. Jason huffed a laugh at the remark, because Talia would. Like Damian, Talia treated and raised Jason as a prince. It wasn’t uncommon for her to drag Jason out of a press conference after some poor naïve reporter didn’t treat him with the same respect as they did her. Although, with time, Talia had limited this odd display of affection and changed her parenting style because she understood that Jason was and always will be a commoner. It was something she prided herself, that she knew this better than Bruce Wayne. Jason will always be whoever he wants to be, and no-one can force him otherwise.

Mira left to attend to Clark whilst Jason busied himself preparing to meet the Man of Steel. Quick meditation techniques for his heartbeat and _extra-curricular_ Wayne reports were systematically filed in a lead lined box. Jason didn’t trust Clark, simply because he didn’t trust Bruce. He would be an idiot to believe that none of Bruce’s paranoia detective tendencies didn’t rub off onto Clark.

And he certainly was no idiot.

Finally prepared, Jason watched the door until Mira opened and introduced Clark to Jason. “Mr Kent!” Jason greeted cheerily. His expression was perfect, his body language was loose and the atmosphere was inviting. He had practiced this thoroughly, perfectly hiding his emotions. “It’s a pleasure to meet the reporter closest to the Man of Steel.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr Head.” Clark replied in the same fashion, extending his arms. Jason shook his hands firmly but still held weariness to the reporter. On the surface, this was a meeting between a CEO and a reporter. Underneath the façade, an assassin and a god. The only difference between the two was that Jason knew who Clark was and a pang of hurt and hate hit him because Clark didn’t recognise him.

Jason knew it had been a few years since Clark had last seen the once scrawny malnourished Robin, but it still annoyed Jason greatly. _You save a guy’s life a few times. The least he could do is remember your face._ Jason thought darkly.

“Please call me Jason.” Keeping his happy, cheerful demeanour.

Guiding the reporter to a seating area away from his desk, even though Jason had hidden his _extra-curricular_ reports away, he seriously hoped the glasses Clark was wearing was lead lined. Once seated, Mira brought the two a cup of coffee, which was greatly appreciated. A nice cover for his heartbeat.

“First of all.” Clark began. Jason had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Smoozhing first, business second. _Reporting 101_. “Thank you for taking some time away from your busy schedule and I must say this is rather interesting office you have here.” Clark said, gazing around.

Jason’s office was a mix match of different cultures. Bonsai tree near the floor to ceiling windows, artistic pottery alongside the adjacent wall, paintings and leather-bound books placed on the entrance wall.

“Thank you.” Feigning happiness from the not-so compliment. “A lot of what you see here is inspired from my travels. Mostly Asia and Middle Eastern influences. I appreciate the sentiment, but you have to compliment my mother for that. Almost everything here is because of her.” He said fondly.

“Ah, Yes. Your mother. How is she?” Jason heard the underlying message. _Has she killed anyone lately?_ Clark still didn’t know who Jason was, and couldn’t say it outright, knowing it would give hints to his _other_ identity.

“She’s doing wonderfully.” Jason smiled sweetly. “She has just finished the contracts for new health care programs. The programs will be implemented here in Metropolis and a few other cities. Gotham included.”

“I haven’t heard about these programs.” Clark stated innocently.

_Don’t roll your eye. Don’t roll your eyes._ “Domestic abuse victims and children with PTSD.” Jason’s heart grew when she first told him about it. A homage to Jason. “She’s quite the advocate against household violence and child physical and sexual abuse.”

Clark’s eyes widened comically at the statement. Jason had to internally meditate to calm himself. Clark only knew what he heard from Bruce. Clark only heard the bad, never the good. “That’s wonderful.” He stuttered out.

“It is indeed…in fact.” Jason stated. Standing up, he walked over the row of pottery and picked one up gently. This particularly was displayed more prominently than the others. Bringing it back, Jason handed it to Clark. “Tell me what you see.”

Clark was quite confused at the order but looked anyway. A marble white with veins of gold stretched throughout. “I’m not much of a pottery expert. But I must say it is beautiful.” He said, handing it back to Jason.

“Do you want to know what I see?” Gazing intently at the object. Clark nodded firmly, clasping the notebook in his hands. “I see myself.”

Noticing the quizzical look in Clark’s eyes, Jason continued. “This particular style of pottery is called Kintsugi. It’s an art style that emphasised the use of gold to repair broken pottery. The philosophy is that once something is broken, it can be repaired with gold. It symbolises that the pot will never be what it once was, but with time and care, it can become more beautiful than before.” Jason said, looking fondly at the pot.

“My mother found me. She found this broken child that didn’t have a home, a life or a purpose. She saw my cracks, she saw my scars, my pain, and my hurt and took me in. She tirelessly searched the globe to find the gold to stitch me back together and I can’t thank her enough for what she has done for me.”

Clark was frantically noting down all he was hearing. Jason found some amusement knowing that Clark was having an internal dilemma. This was nothing like Bruce had told him. “Is this why you have such a much different business policy than most?” He asked tentatively.

Keeping a fond smile on his face, Jason answered. “I keep this pot to remind me every day why I do what I do. The good people, the poor, the hurt, the broken are being swept away and forgotten because they won’t, or rather can’t, be someone they are not. I see them as the pieces they are and provide them with the gold to help them be better.”

~

Clark was having a mental breakdown listening to all this good Talia had been doing. This was nothing like Bruce had told him. He had fought against the League before, had seen what the upbringing did to Damian, and had listened to Bruce about how much of a bitch and harlot Talia was.

But this?

This was different. This young man saw the good in people. He saw the good in his mother, which astounded Clark because he would be a fool to think that this man who claims to be Talia’s son didn’t know about his mother’s other activities.

Clark had talked to Bruce about Talia’s presence in Metropolis and asked about who this mysterious young man was. Bruce had waved off his concerns about _Jason_ , thinking the name was merely a way for Talia to taunt him and that the Mother – Son relationship was merely a front. Yet, looking at sparkle in Jason’s eyes and the way his lips curled into a fond smile whenever he talked about her said differently.

Jason was telling the truth.

He was telling the truth about his broken past, he was telling the truth about his relationship with Talia and he was telling the truth about the good that she did.

Finishing his interview, the two stood up and only then did Clark notice how huge the young man in front of him was. 6’2”, with a muscular frame. He carried a presence of authority but oozed out a sense of calm and peace. Staring at the man, there was something familiar about him. There was something about the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, the way he held himself as if Clark had seen it somewhere before.

The black hair, the light freckles, the grin…that damn grin was so painstakingly familiar yet Clark couldn’t place it. Pushing his thoughts aside, he casted on his reporter persona. “Are there any other projects Head Industries are currently working on that the public might be interested in?”

“Nosey one, aren’t you?” Jason said teasingly. “We all have our secrets, Clark.” _That_ caught his attention. There was a slip, a minor and minute tell in his tone that most wouldn’t notice. But Clark did, because he had been around Bruce enough to notice the Batman’s tells. The once happy, playful tone, changed ever so slightly to something dark and hidden.

“Thank you for your time.” Clark said, wanting to get out and research more about this _Jason Head._

“Pleasure was all mine.” There was that playful mask again. The two shook hands and Clark put a little bit more strength, enough to hurt and was shocked at the reaction. There was none, not a wince, not a twitch of his eyes. Jason merely held firm, as if nothing was out of the ordinary and this had Clark on the back foot.

_This_ was Jason. There was so much more about the young man that he didn’t know. _Was everything a lie? Are the two up to something? Who is he?_ Questions raced through him and looking at the man in front of him, had him feel a level of nervousness that he only held for one man. Bruce.

He had to get to Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of a 4 part story.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this direction and the speed I'm taking it.


	2. Light in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People often forget how smart Gotham Rogues are. Jason didn't.

Mira was shaking. Truth be told, she was hiding her fear quite well, but Jason had been thoroughly trained in phycology and fear tactics that he knew the difference between real and false confidence. He could see the way her eyes took in the imposing sight of the building’s outline. He could see how dry her lips had become despite how often she applied Chap Stick, but the most important feature was how she held the stack of documents close to her chest, appearing dignified but actually using it as a potential shield. Jason actually felt a little guilty having brought along his personal assistant to arguably the worst place in the world.

Mira was Gotham born and raised. Unlike the rest of the Narrows, she had been riding the high of life. She had a happy family, a good childhood. Grade ‘A’ student with a full-ride scholarship with Gotham University. Everything was going perfectly for her.

Until it wasn’t.

Her mother and father had died in the middle of a gang war between the Maroni family and Black Mask’s goons, leaving her with a bullet ridden apartment and her 13 year old sister. Turning to a life of prostitution, she tried her best for them to survive in the alleys of the Narrows.

But Gotham never gives. It only takes. Little Rosie didn’t survive.

Needless to say, Mira had her fair share of horrors, but she was still sane enough to know that she was about to walk into a lion’s den of pain and fear. She trusted her boss, after everything he did for her, she trusted him, but staring at Arkham State Penitentiary she was tempted to run.

She had left to live and work in Metropolis for a reason. To run away from all the crazies that lived there, yet her boss, the fearless leader he was, wanted her to tag along. She tried to hide it. Tried to hide the fear behind the emotionless face of professionalism but the cracks were there. Mira was infinitely grateful how her boss understood her fear and moved closer to her, using his imposing frame to stand between her and the horrors that awaited.

She hated everything about Arkham. She hated the echoing screams, the muddy sludge at the front steps, the way the staff leered at her, with lustful eyes. Walking down the corridors, she unknowingly moved even closer behind Mr Head, with only a bit of her face peering over his shoulders.

She took comfort in the close proximity of her boss. She felt safe from the close warmth of his body, how he protectively stepped in front of her each time a security guard talked to them, how his voice was unwavering and strong, as if he was used to all of the deadly silence, eerily lingering.

The deeper into the asylum, the more dread she felt. The pit in her stomach constantly churned as she noticed the hastily restored furnishings and how weary and broken down the door hinges were. Both of them had been escorted through layers of security. They had to leave any electronic devices, belts and jewellery behind as a measure against possible escapees. Room after room of body searches, x-rays and inspections. The only reason Mira held on so long was Jason’s calm presence and his deadly glare if anyone got too handsy.

Finally, they were issued with visitor ID cards and was escorted into an open empty room. Stepping in Mira noticed the plethora of security cameras placed along the walls, used to capture every angle of patient and visitor interactions. The stainless steel chairs had been bolted to the ground and the lights were fixed into the ceiling behind bulletproof glass.

Mira gulped at the sight and was dumbfounded by her jackass of a boss casually sitting down at one of the designated chairs and laid his head on his arms, catching up on sleep.

They were in Arkham _and he was sleeping._ She just stared in horror and could hear the murmurs of the small platoon of guards because they all had the exact same thought as hers. _They are going to fucking die._

She visibly jumped when she heard the gates rolling open and the clinks of cuffs making their way towards her. Turning around, Mira’s eyes widened. She had been around criminals before, but they were all gangbangers, skinheads and small-time thieves. None of them had been super villains. Villains that were known for decimating city blocks, villains that had took shit from no-one and Mira ended up asking herself again. _Why the hell are we here?_

Poison Ivy and Mr Freeze walked up with looks of displeasure clearly etched into their faces.

As calmly and professionally as possible, Mira hesitantly grabbed Jason’s shoulder. She _intended_ to shake him lightly, she _intended_ to not show how absolutely fucking terrified she was.

Her body did not listen to her brain.

Jason’s upper-body hammered against the stainless steel table, and he groaned in annoyance at her. He looked up at her with a face that said _what the fuck?_ She glared at him in response and hesitantly pointed at the duo in front of them.

“Pamela. Victor.” Jason greeted casually which made Mira tense up in fear. _We’re going to die._

Mira felt immensely relieved that Poison Ivy only snarled at Jason. If they were going to die, then he dies first. Only fair since he dragged her there. “I do not like to be summoned.” Ivy hissed obviously pissed.

“Neither do I.” Freeze grumbled out, irritated.

Mira’s eyes widened. It was night-time. People sleep at night. They had woken both of them up. _We’re so dead._

The jackass smiled. He _smiled_ , clearly enjoying taunting these two villains who would very well kill him whenever they wished and he was _taunting them._ “Please take a seat.” Jason said cheerily, pointing at the two chairs in front of him.

Mira stood there tense watching the two rogues eye her boss. These was one of those moments where screaming and running was a good idea. Either that or death and she did not like that idea.

Surprisingly a third unexpected, yet very welcome result occurred. They sat down still eyeing Jason. “What do you want?” Freeze bluntly asked. He wanted to end this farce as quickly as possible and Mira silently agreed with the super villain.

Jason casually stared back, leaning against the back-support. Turning his body around, he extended his hands towards Mira. Hurriedly, she grabbed two distinct stack of papers and handed it to him. Looking back, Jason gave one to Ivy and one to Freeze. “I want to hire you.”

Mira loved her boss. Not romantically but love at a respectful _he’s a good human being_ level. But listening to him now, she really regretted not slapping him when she brought up this idea. She could hear the guards’ jaws hitting the ground at the declaration.

“What makes you think I’ll ever work for a _man?_ ” Ivy said was distaste, clearly awake after listening to the idiot’s request. “You’re all the same. Poisoning waters and destroying my children’s homes just to fill your pockets.” She hissed out, hands clenching tightly.

Mira’s heart was hammering in her chest hoping that it’ll be a quick death. She could hear the cocking of guns around her. “Simple.” Her boss replied. “Because I can provide you what the Batman won’t.”

That caused a reaction. Ivy’s anger faltered, tilting her head to the side confused. “Which is?”

“Complete isolation.” Jason stated simply. “You hate men. You hate Batman and his little gang of birds killing your children and burning your babies. You hate the corrupt fat cats that dump waste on Mother Nature’s land.”

“This job.” Jason leaned in closer, pointing at the contract in front of him. “I can provide you with your own private sanctuary. One where you can grow whatever you want without restraint, without fear for the younglings lives. All I ask is for you to continue your research.” Ivy was now sceptical, because it was a good deal.

Jason continued his speech. “I know you think I’m just another wide-eyed brat thinking he can use you for his gains…and you’re right.” Mira tense. You’re not supposed to agree to a negative implication. “Just think, Gotham with so many trees that it can finally dissipate the smog of years of mistreatment. Every species of plantation on the verge of extinction can be saved by you, with my resources. You could grow the Blushwood Berry, only found in Australia, and increase the readily available stock of EBC-46 extract. You know what that is?” He encouraged.

She stayed silent for a while before muttering. “A compound found to combat cancer.”

“Exactly. It can’t survive any climate other than Australia’s but with your _gift_ , your ability, we can.” He replied happily. “Together, we could create a world of green, living in perfect harmony. Because isn’t that you always wanted. For nature to take its natural course and thrive? The forest jungle and concrete jungle co-existing? I could give you that freedom.”

Ivy held the stack of papers with a hesitant hunger. “There will always be corporations destroying this earth. What about them?” She asked weakly. A cheap attempt at countering but an important one. She was an eco-terrorist who had no qualms killing those who harmed her children.

“Then you come to me.” Jason stated. As if it was the simplest solution in the world. “You come to me and we’ll deal with it together. You want a company gone? I can buy them out and throw them away. Every problem, every hurt, and every piece of pain that makes you want to lash out…you come to me.” He said reaching over and gently clasping her hand.

Iv-Pamela tensed at the action and so did every guard that was watching, as they whipped their guns at the ready. “I don’t like men.” She whispered.

Giving a reassuring squeeze, he responded. “Then all your colleagues will be female. The only man you have to deal with is me. All I ask is that you help me remake a better world and I will provide you with whatever you need to create a Utopia for your plants.”

Silence followed and Mira stood there, once again, astounded at her boss. “Holy shit.” A whisper grabbed their attention.

To Pamela’s side was Freeze…Victor reading his contract with wonder. “This can’t be real.”

“It is.” Jason said simply, pulling away from Pamela. The woman in question almost flinched at the missing contact. “A department under your control, with the funding necessary to create the cure to heal your wife. That is your only job.”

“You…you’d let me?” Victor asked in shock. “You’d let a known criminal have complete control of an entire division to create the cure for _one_ disease?”

“Not complete control. I am still your boss but yes…every task, every project, every discovery is for the sole purpose of creating that cure. _When_ the time comes that you cure your wife of such a disease, and you may wish to leave, you can. If you wish to continue working under my employ, you can. I will not force you, I will not restrain you. As long as you follow the law and do your job, I will be everything in my power to help you. Just like Pamela, if you need anything, you come to me.” Jason said with resolution.

“Why?” Pamela asked quietly. “Why are you helping us?”

Jason turned his attention back to her with soft eyes. “Because I know what it’s like to be abandoned. I know what it’s like to be cast aside because I wasn’t what people wanted. I know what it feels like to be humiliated and compared against _uno numero._ They weren’t helping me. They were molding me into something I wasn’t.”

Holding each of the rogues’ hands, he continued. “This is what Batman never understood. Help isn’t beating you up and throwing you in a padded cell. It isn’t doctors filling you up with drugs or assholes with their smug god-complex giving you the occasional _tsk-tsk._ Help is accepting the bad and moving on with the good. Help is staying by your side and asking if you’re okay. Help is the painful trek through the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“I want to help.”

Pamela and Victor looked almost awestruck at Jason. They sat there still holding his hand, reliving his words. Nodding slowly, Victor answered for the both of them. “Where do we sign?”

Understanding that it was her turn to work, Mira stepped in. “If you would just sign here, here and here.” Pointing at the relevant sections. Three guards came up and looked hesitantly between each other and Jason before handing the ex-cons pens.

Pamela and Victor signed the contracts with renewed vigour. Freedom, resources…help. They could have it all. Once finished the two pushed their contracts towards Jason who bundled them up and handed it back to Mira. “What now?” Pamela asked, because they didn’t exactly explain what would happen once the contracts were signed.

“Now? Now we leave.” Jason stated simply. He stood up and walked towards the Asylum doors, beckoning them to follow. Mira, Pamela and Victor had a silent conversation, unanimously agreeing this was a weird night.

They all walked. They walked past the confused stares of inmates. They walked past the dumbfounded expressions of the Asylum staff. They collected their belongings and walked past the gates.

This felt different. Both of them had escaped Arkham several times over but walking outside, legally, it felt different. No looking over your shoulder, no exhaustion from evading the police. But there was something that stayed the same.

The arrival of the Bat.

Engines roared towards them until it came with a screeching halt. Out leapt the man himself, followed by Bludhaven’s poster child, Nightwing. Curiously, there was a third hero. Superman. It seemed Jason had caught the attention of Big Blue who snitched to Gotham’s resident vampire.

They all formed in a line, standing in between Jason’s group and the limousine waiting their arrival. Pamela and Victor immediately took a defensive stance. “You are not permitted to leave.” Batman growled, Mira flinched at the threat.

Years ago, Jason would have been fazed with the white eyes of Batman’s cowl or the deep, almost inhuman growl that the man emitted. But now, staring at his ex-father, he chuckled. Dickwing seemed uncomfortable about how easy going Jason was. Without looking away, still holding his smirk, Jason extended his hands towards Mira. His PA was still in shock at seeing the living nightmare but eventual regained enough sense to hand him a document.

Walking casually up to the vigilante, Jason casually handed over the file with a smug look of victory. “I believe they are permitted to leave.” Batman looked down at the file and those that knew him well, Jason included, could tell the man had a mini-stroke reading the contents.

“What is this?” He growled, once again. Jason visibly rolled his eyes at the comment. Bruce knew what he had read, but still had the gall to make them explain.

“Part of one of my mother’s many rehabilitation programs. Under our company, this system allows ex-cons to re-integrate with society or nature, in Pamela’s case. As you can _clearly_ see, it has been signed by several high-ranking officials within Gotham Department of Health. Even the mayor of Metropolis has accepted this new project.” Jason relished at the look on Superman’s face, instantly grabbing the paper out of Batman’s hands, scanning the document until he saw the signature and political stamp of his city’s mayor.

Pamela and Victor slowly eased themselves out of their defensive stance, looking at a visibly shocked Superman and a pissed Batman. “But they're criminals.” Dickwing exclaimed.

Jason scoffed at the statement. “So are you, genius.” Not even looking at the shocked expression of Dick’s masked face, Jason strode up to Big Blue and took back the piece of paper, handing it to Mira.

“I will not permit you.” The annoyingly deep growl was directed at him, again. “The League has no business with my city.”

 _League?_ Mira, Pamela and Victor looked at each other questioningly.

This time, Jason laughed. Loud, uncaring, almost maniacally. “This is hilarious. The great Batman, the world’s greatest detective _still_ doesn’t understand.” Turning back around, facing the three heroes. “Talia and I don’t work for the League. Not anymore.”

“Then what are you doing?” Nightwing asked.

Jason stared darkly at the older man. “I’m making you obsolete.” Dick grimaced at the statement. Even Superman was uncomfortable with the declaration.

“Who are you?” Big blue asked.

“I already told you, Superman.” Staring hard into Clark’s eyes. <We all have our secrets>. Superman’s face paled and Jason took great pleasure watching Bruce step back in shock. Jason had changed languages mid-sentence. A language very few knew.

Kryptonian.

Superman stared in horror at the young man in front of him. Jason _knew._ He knew who Clark was. The young man had been playing him the entire time because _he knew._

Jason wanted to gloat, to mock the two legends standing before him, but he had more important issues to attend to. Walking past he didn’t bother sparing a second glance at the rage permeating from Bruce or the fear Dick emitted or even the hilariously shocked expression of Clark’s face. They weren’t worth his time.

With his newest employees trailing behind, he waved a salute over his shoulder, he called out. “See ya later, ya big boob.”

 _That_ caused a reaction. Jason felt the ground shake underneath him. The deafening sound of knees hitting gravel echoed against the night sky. He could hear the breathless gasp and shuttering breathes afterwards. “Jason?”

Without a care in the world, without a fuck left to give, he sat inside the limousine and called out at the distraught figure kneeling on the ground. “Took your time, old man.”


	3. Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is searching for answers. None of them like what they find.

Silence.

With only the hum of the limousine’s engine to fill the air, Mira, Pamela and Victor stared at their boss. _Who the hell is he?_

All of them were geniuses in their own right, but their brains still couldn’t comprehend what the fuck just happened. Their boss just made Batman his bitch. Batman’s _I am night_ stare down had no effect on the young man and he had them dancing in the palm of his hands. Jason had planned everything, from the employee contract details to the legal paperwork for their release to Batman’s appearance and subsequent verbal beat down leaving the trio of heroes, shocked, pissed and afraid of this man that sat in front of them.

“Who are you?” Pamela decided to ask the silent question plaguing them.

Jason stared at the ex-con. His ocean blue eyes stared deep into her own and for the briefest of moments, Pamela noticed how his eyes flashed a hint of venom green. She shuddered and grew uncomfortable at the action. “A friend.” He said quietly. His tone held no malice, anger or bloodlust. It was soothing, playful and filled her with a newfound confidence and acceptance of her boss.

Silence followed once again. All of them wanted to ramble questions of Who, What, When, Where and Why, but kept quiet because they all understood one thing. Batman and Jason go back…

And he was pissed.

“When you were talking…” Victor pipped in, choosing a safer question. “You two mentioned a League. Which League? Justice League?”

Jason chuckled playfully at the question. “No, I’ve never worked for _that_ League. Although, I have met them before.” He admitted, shocking the other limousine occupants. “The League I’m familiar with is an ancient order of assassins. Order is created through pain. Respect is killed for. To them, the value of life is a construct, where your only worth is your ability to wield a blade.”

The trio of employees stared in disbelief at the young man in front of him. “My mother and I were the League’s best agents. I only accepted kill orders for those that deserved to die and in turn, I took beatings for missions I rejected. Gangs, syndicates, dictators….I killed them all. I have enough blood on my hands to be considered your cellmates.” Looking at Pamela and Victor.

Silence followed for a while, as the two rogues tried to comprehend what Jason just said. “I was going to be executed.” The small space froze over at those words. “My mother still has nightmares of the deeds that happened to my younger brother…she didn’t want me to meet such a fate, so she took me and ran. Ran away from her father, my… _master_.” He said with distain. “We travelled, hid, fought and killed for our survival. Eventually, the old bastard accepted his losses and gave up. With the small breath of freedom, my mother took up contracts with old connections and gained enough resources and assets to create Head Industries. We bled for a better life. We killed for safety. We struggled for warmth and now we fight for those who can’t.”

“So there you have it.” He concluded. “The multi-national conglomerate you all know today, was built on a foundation of corpses.” He stared at the three with gentle eyes. “If this information makes you want to revoke your contracts, then by all means do so. I’m not like the League. I’m not like Batman. I don’t force others to do what I want. Everything is your choice.”

An uneasy silence fell on the group. Pamela and Victor looked at each other, unsure on how to proceed. It would be hypocritical of them to leave after he gave the two convicts a chance at live. Mira was the most distraught of the three. Her boss. Her kind, loving, caring and incredible boss was a killer.

A killer with a heart of gold.

A killer that would drop everything to help with disaster relief.

A killer that went out of his way to cook and care for her whenever she was sick.

A killer that helped hundreds of thousands of people, just because he wanted to.

She relived his words and just wanted to cry. He said he _had_ a brother. He said he took beatings because he wouldn’t kill _good_ people. Then she remembered the look on his face when he was talking to Batman at the front gates of Arkham. The smug look of victory and mischievousness hiding the rage underneath. He hated Batman, because Batman had _failed_ him. He failed to save a kind and gentle boy that had to be thrust into a world of pain and blood. A boy that dirtied his hands so no-one else would. A boy that now saw the good in two of the worst super villains Gotham had to offer.

_How much pain had he experienced? How much hurt and suffering and darkness did he have to endure?_

_Why does this world only take?_

Mira jumped when she felt a cold sensation touch her hand. Looking to her side, Pamela looked at her with comforting eyes. Eyes that made a decision. It was obvious what their decision was.

Pamela and Victor might have only heard about Jason’s kindness but Mira had lived it. She had lived through the moments of pain and hurt where her boss had cried _with_ her, sharing her pain. She had lived through every act of kindness he performed. She had seen the look of hope in people’s eyes. She had seen the way life somehow sparkled in the most decrepit parts of society.

She had seen it all and she wanted to see more. It didn’t matter what her boss had done or what he will do. She knew who he was.

A good person.

Reassuringly clasping Pam’s hand, they all turned back towards their boss and slowly nodded. “We’ll stay.” Simple. Resolute. Filled with conviction.

_Help is the painful trek through the good, the bad, and the ugly._

~

The once solidary and empty cave buzzed with the arrival of the family. Head in his hands, Dick had been sitting staring at the computer but just couldn’t look at the smile Jason had pointing at Talia.

Every sensation, every sound that encased the cave felt like it was too much. He could hear the tyres of motorbikes screeching. He could feel the scared movements of the Bats that squeaked and fluttered above. Everything felt so _right_ and so _wrong_.

Jason was alive.

Jason, his brother…his _first_ brother was alive.

Jason was alive in Metropolis.

Jason was alive with _Talia._

Dick felt sick just thinking about it. The bitch had kept Damian from Bruce for years, she had allowed Ras to turn him into the perfect soldier through any means possible and now…now she had Jason. _How long has he been alive? How long has he been waiting for them? How much pain has he endured?_

What made it worse, as he stared at the press images, was the way he looked _at her_. Love, affection, tenderness. The love of a child and his parent which made Dick boil with rage. _That_ should have been Bruce. That should have been father and son. That should have been Bruce standing behind Jason with pride in his eyes at Wayne Enterprise instead of Head Industries.

 _That_ should have been Bruce and Jason…and Talia _took_ that from them.

Jason should have been home.

“What’s the emergency?” A voice snapped his attention away from the screen, Tim’s voice. Everyone was waiting behind him and was becoming nervous at how off-guard and distracted he was. Swivelling his chair around, his expression must have told a thousand stories because they all grimaced at how broken he looked.

“Why are we investigating my mother with that _imposter_?” Damian questioned with great distaste. Dick still remembers the day Talia stepped in front of the world as Talia Head and declared Jason as her son. Damian was livid, believing no-one apart from him, the blood son, was worthy enough have that title. Bloody murder was sworn and Dick felt his stomach churn because he remembered he hated Talia enough to agree with Damian.

Dick tried to speak. Tried to explain what the fuck was happening. Tried to retell what had happened at Arkham half an hour ago, but couldn’t. His mouth opened and closed several times over, but each time his words fell out in an unrecognisable mess. What was he supposed to say? _Hey! Good news everyone. The brother that you’ve never met before is alive and living with a sociopathic terrorist._

Barbara, or rather Oracle, who was watching through the Cave’s cameras popped a video chat onto the main screen. She didn’t know the details either. The only information she did know was that this _Jason_ had come into Arkham with one employee and came out with three.

“Batman and Superman have gone to collect further information. Wait until they arrive. Further instructions will be provided.” She ordered with a tone that brokered no debate. She knew whatever happened between the heroes and rogues shocked Dick to the core.

So, they waited.

Tim went ahead and used the spare time to further his own cases. Damian sat alongside Dick. He would never admit it, but he was terrified at the faraway look in his eldest brother’s eyes. Cass stared uncomfortably at Dick. Anger, guilt, shame, hope etched his very being. It was all too much for her to handle. Steph understanding the weirdness of the situation tried to coral her best friend but ultimately failed.

Everyone silently agreed…they were in for a weird night.

It felt like hours. Hours of nervous waiting that had Dick pacing back and forth with everyone watching him with worry. Everyone jumped when they heard the boom of the cave gates opening. They watched the Batmobile race towards them. They saw the look of absolute horror on Superman’s face as he landed. They saw the uneasy way Bruce exited the car, his legs wobbling.

Batman was visible distraught. _The_ Batman. They were fucking terrified. _What the hell happened?_

“Bruce?” Dick nervously asked, stepping closer. “What did you see?”

“Bruce?” He repeated.

“Is it him?” He continued.

His father didn’t move, didn’t react. He just stood there staring at the image of Jason and Talia. Dick flung himself at the man, grabbing the suit. “TELL ME.” He screamed, shaking Bruce uncontrollably.

Cass and Tim dived in, pulling their brother off. It was undignified and shameless. Dick kept screaming profanities and demands, wildly swinging his limbs around trying to get closer. His brother and sister fought hard, dragging him as far away as they could.

Bruce moved, painfully slow towards the main desk. Reaching into his belt he pulled out two bags of evidence and immediately began the DNA recognition program. One bag had chunks of wood with what seemed to be dried blood. Blood that had stained the timber for years.

The other had small clumps of dirt mixed together with what looked like…

_Fingernails…_

Dick stared wide-eyed in horror. Throwing himself out of his siblings’ arms, he ran to the nearest bin he could find and retched.

He hurled every bit of food and drink he had consumed for the past week. He just kept going, the disgusting pungent smell permeated through the air. When his stomach couldn’t produce more waste, his vomit turned into bile.

Every bit of his being wanted out. His brother. His _dead_ brother had to crawl out of a grave.

Apart from Clark and Bruce, who continued to stare at the computer, his family stared at him. They stared at the man who was breaking. They stared at the only fixture in their messed up families and they didn’t know what to do. _What the hell happened?_

“Bruce, what happened?” Barbara asked, not looking away from her ex who was throwing up his lungs into a trashcan.

Bruce didn’t answer and he didn’t need to.

His computer had finally finished with the DNA scan and in big, absolute font displayed a set of words Bruce had never thought he would ever see.

DNA MATCH - JASON PETER TODD: 99%

Barbara gasped in shock, clamming her hands over her mouth. Every one stumbled back understanding that the impossible just happened. A dead man, a dead Robin, a dead brother was alive and walking. A crash caught their attention turning their heads to Alfred.

Alfred…he was broken. Glassware had shattered across the floor with tea and biscuits mixing together into a disgusting sludge on the ground. His grandson was alive. The grandson that gladly helped him do chores. The grandson that cooked alongside him every morning. His grandson…his Jason was alive.

But Alfred’s reaction paled in comparison to Bruce’s.

Falling into his chair, with his cowl off, with his mouth parted him shock and horror.

 _His son_ was alive.

His son that had died bloody and in tatters.

His son that died too young.

His son that he buried.

His son had to crawl and scratch his way out of his fucking grave.

Bruce held his head in pain and longing and cried. Cried for the lost son. Cried for broken promises. Cried for longing. Everyone stared wide-eyed at the sight. This was not a Batman they were used to. They were used to big, tall and brooding. They were comfortable with gruff grunts and a face devoid of expression.

This felt _wrong_. Batman was crying _in front_ of them.

Tim switched back and forth between Bruce and the giant words on the computer screen. _His_ hero was alive. The hero he looked up to. The hero that whose footsteps he followed. He then looked back at the evidence again and his stomach did somersaults. Dick had every right to be throwing his breakfast, lunch and dinner. Tim wouldn’t wish such a fate on his worst enemy. No-one deserved what Jason had to go through.

A roar of pain and anger filled the air. Bruce had grabbed a keyboard and begun swinging it against the computer screen. Shards of glass flew through the air, sparks sprayed everywhere and his family stood there and watched.

_Talia._

~

When Jason proposed the rehabilitation project of Poison Ivy and Mr Freeze, Talia was dumbfounded. Her heart grew with pride at the level of detail he invested in the project but still held a weariness about it. She had willingly sent her son into Arkham. A cesspit of pain and death but she was glad she did.

She held onto her conviction and trust of her son and he performed admirably. The research notes that they gathered from their respective hideouts advanced the world of science astronomically. Thousands of pages worth of discoveries and experiments showed them the potential Head Industries had to offer in areas of Anatomy, Cryogenics, Botany and Bio-Chemistry. But the thing that amazed Talia the most was how welcoming the ex-rogues new colleagues were. They all understood Pamela and Victor provided an expertise unlike any other. They understood that the two were trying to repay for their crimes.

They trusted the two because Jason trusted them. The level of respect and loyalty they displayed was something her father could only dream of.

And then there was Bruce.

Truth be told, Talia was quite disappointed that it took Bruce this long to figure it out. In fact, he didn’t even figure it out, Jason had told him. She doubled over laughing when Jason had come home and retold what happened the previous night. He was staring him in the face and Bruce still didn’t realise. Pride enveloped her at Jason’s audacity and confidence in the face of the three heroes. Legends and role models in their own right and Jason had brushed them off.

It was growth. It showed how far Jason has come and how far he will go. Gotham was always too small for him.

It humoured her greatly when a receptionist on the entrance floor notified her that Bruce Wayne was making a warpath towards her office. She had expected him to restrain Jason from even leaving Gotham. She expected him to come in the middle of the night wearing his usual Kevlar Composite Tri-Weave suit.

She did not expect him to barge through her office doors with a look of bloody murder. A look that posed no threat. Bruce wouldn’t be the Batman if he did commit murder.

“Talia.” He growled.

 _Oh, this is going to be fun._ “Good morning, Beloved. What brings you to Metropolis?” She asked casually.

“Jason.”

God, he was insufferable as always. How she found him attractive at one point in time astounded her. “What about _my_ son?” She asked, revelling in the flicker of pain and anger in his eyes.

Pushing past the obvious psychological warfare, he continued. “Why did you keep him from me?”

 _How did I find that gargling voice sexy?_ “I didn’t.” She answered simply.

In a fit of anger, Bruce slammed his fists down on her table. She audibly sighed at the visible cracks and splinters in the timber. “Uncouth as always. You of all people should know how hard it is to find a good Mahogany supplier.”

“Stop lying to me.” He yelled. “First, you kept Damian from me and now you have Jason. You kept my sons from me. You corrupted _my_ sons. Why do you take so much pleasure from destroying their lives?” He demanded.

Talia raised her eyebrows that translated into _really?_ Casually sipping her tea, she made a mental note to buy more Darjeeling. It was her favourite blend and they were running low. It would be an atrocity to not have any at the ready.

“Jason chose not to come back to you.” Simple, elegant but still held enough mystery for him to ask…

“Why?” He asked, fuming. “He should have been home. Why did he choose you?”

“He didn’t.” God, this felt like an interrogation. Then again, everything Bruce did was an interrogation. “Well…not at first, at least.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. Talia could hear his knuckles pop and crack from clenching too hard. It seems like he’s about to jump to conclusions.

“You brainwashed him.”

He jumped to conclusions.

“You brainwashed my son.” His voice rising. “You brainwashed him to get to me. Jason would never side with a two-cent whore like you. Jason would never willingly follow an…”

Bruce stopped mid-rant. She could practically see the gears in his head stop. “No…” He breathlessly said. “You turned him into a killer.”

 _Ah_. She thought. _There it is._ It wasn’t entirely untrue. Yes, Talia trained him to kill. Yes, he has killed. No, he was not brainwashed into doing so. Although the Pit initially had an influence, all the murders Jason has committed since the Pit weakened its hold of her son, are of his own choosing.

“He was my best agent.” She answered. It wasn’t a full confirmation, but in Bruce’s mind, it was. Talia loved pushing his buttons, watching his reaction and striking hard once again. It was one of the many reasons why she and Jason connected.

Watching Bruce clench and unclench his fists, wanting to strike her down had her giddy with glee. Every camera feed in her office was directed through a separate network and was routed through several compounds scattered across the globe. The only access into them were through a 5-layer encryption program that only Talia, Jason and a select few had access to. Oracle would have a hard time cracking this and Bruce knew it.

If he hit her as Bruce Wayne, she would have the perfect evidence to provide to the authorities. Wayne Enterprises would be destroyed, his children would be forced out of his custody. She could legally have Damian back. The heroes would hate her, but if they wanted to be considered _heroes,_ then they could do nothing.

Sure, they could reveal to the world that she used to be an international terrorist with ties to every major underworld organisation in the world. But if they did, Bruce would lose Jason forever.

Talia knew it. Jason knew it.

And now Bruce knew it.

“You bitch.” He seethed.

Talia took great pride in knowing that she beat Batman. It wasn’t a physical beat down, but she still won. He stormed into her office thinking she would simply hand over another son and found himself on the back foot, dancing in the palm of her hand.

After a resounding slam of her office doors, she looked down at her table and huffed in annoyance. _I liked this table._

~

It had been a stressful and invigorating 24 hours.

Travelling to Arkham resulted in an unexpected but welcomed interaction. For the first time in years, he talked to Bruce. Jason was pleasantly surprised that nothing happened. He knew how far he had come since his dip into the Lazarus Pit but standing there, in front of Bruce, amazed him.

That _itch_. That insufferable itch wasn’t there. Sure, he still hated the man but his fingers didn’t twitch for a gun, his heart didn’t rage through him. He acted professionally and watched with mischievous pride that he shocked Batman to his knees.

Coming home after introducing his newest employees to their team had Jason crashing onto the sofa. He groaned as he looked at the clock on the wall. It had been over 24 hours since he last slept. It wasn’t the longest he had stayed awake before but it didn’t mean he liked it.

Lighting an incense candle, Jason let it permeate before heading into the showers. He could still smell the dirt and grime of Gotham lingering onto him.

A hot shower.

A good book.

Lavender scent candles.

It was the perfect way to end a day before heading off to sleep.

Washing his body, he went over the events of the previous night. Bruce or rather Batman looked old. Small creases on parts of his face that wasn’t covered and the way his voice gravelled with old age. Dick looked different. Older…more refined. Not the dickhead that dragged Jason into him and Bruce’s fights. It was weird and oddly refreshing, because this interaction only strengthened his love for Talia. She had helped him through the worst PTSD and Pit madness had to offer and he couldn’t thank her enough.

Towelling himself, he stepped in front of the mirror and went over his daily visual of self-confirmation. He had come far, done so much. The scars that once reminded him how weak and defenceless he was, told him how strong he had become.

No longer was he the malnourished street rat scrounging for scraps. No longer was he that wide-eyed Robin that flew too close to the sun.

He was Jason Head. The son of Talia Head.

Slipping into his comfort clothes, Jason walked out of the bathroom and made way towards the living room intent on reading Pride and Prejudice for the 101st time.

Once he entered the room, that’s when he felt weird. Standing stock still, alarms in his head was blaring.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised.

The fire of the candle was flickering.

Everything felt cold and intrusive.

With an audible sigh, Jason’s shoulders slumped. “Goddammit, Bruce…” He muttered, prepared for what was about to come.

He felt the sharp pain in his neck before he heard the pneumatic hiss. He felt their presence before seeing the shadows meld into figures. They were all there for him.

The sensation of hands against his chest was the last thing he felt before the darkness engulfed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm genuinely surprised at how well received this story was. Never knew Mama Talia and second chance stories were such a hit. At the time I wrote it because I wanted to, so I'm glad that so many people like it so much.
> 
> Just one chapter left, hope you all enjoy.


	4. A Man Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth sets you free.

Bruce looked at the man that was his son and felt destroyed.

Because, that was the problem. His son was a man.

For 6 years his son had grown up without him. The son that he remembered, the son that he lost, full of life and hope was grown up and he had missed it. He had missed the privilege of watching the small Robin grow into the colossal of the man he was.

He missed the opportunity to teach his son how to shave.

He missed sharing his first legal beer.

He missed so many firsts and it destroyed him.

Looking around at Metropolis apartment, Bruce felt out of place. It ached him so much because this wasn’t supposed to be Jason’s home. The Manor was, with Bruce and his siblings. With Alfred and their pets. With the Waynes. That was _supposed_ to be Jason’s home. Not _this_.

But looking at all of this, it felt so wrong. It felt warm, inviting and cosy. This wasn’t a safe-house that could be cleaned out in 5 minutes. This was a home with that was lived in, used and cared for.

The kitchen was impeccably clean and tidy. His lips betrayed him, curling into a faint smile. Cooking was Jason’s second favourite pastime, helping Alfred in the kitchen. He remembers so many nights where the two would arrive home late at night and Jason would whip up night-time snack, not wanting to wake Alfred up.

Neatly lined up against the west wall was a row of cookbooks all of which was filled to the brim with sticky notes and comments. Four distinct books at the end row caught his attention. Opening them up, Bruce felt a stab to the heart looking at his son’s handwriting covering each page. After everything, it hadn’t changed. Jason still had the same cursive flick on his ‘t’ and off centre dots of the ‘i’. Each book was specifically split for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert and it left Bruce standing there imagining Jason sitting at the kitchen island, meticulously writing down step by step instructions for his latest creation.

Another thing that he had missed out on.

The pain turned into anger when he noticed two aprons dangling on a clothes rack. _Kiss the Zombie_ and _Not a Cook_ etched out and it took every bit of his willpower to not rip it to shreds. Images of Jason and Talia cooking and dancing popped into his head had him seething. Jason should have been home, berating Dick about not eating cereal for dinner or reprimanding Tim for thinking coffee is a meal. Not here…with _her._

He made his way out of the kitchen and stumbled into what looked like a library. All four walls were lined with bookcases filled with first edition titles. Flashes of a bright-eyed boy staring in wonder at the Wayne family library hit him. Nights where he had to carry the sleeping wayward Robin to his room. His young son…now a grown stranger.

Situated right in the middle of the room were two plush reclining chairs with a small coffee table in between. For him and for her.

He ran out of the room, trying to push down the thoughts and ended up in the living room once again noticing his family staring at the accent wall. Framed pictures hanged showing memories of skiing, camping, skydiving…normal family activities perfectly displayed for all to see. Bruce’s heart was beating frantically because all he saw was _that smile_. Vibrant, full of life, happy. For 6 years he had missed that smile.

He missed it. He missed all of it. So he scanned the photos. He looked at the memories Jason made, looking at the places he’s been, the people he visited, the friends he made and faltered when his eyes fell on a framed image directly above the fireplace.

Never had he ever felt like ripping his heart out and stomping it into the ground, just so he wouldn’t feel that deep, longing pain of seeing his son’s Master’s Degree hung triumphantly for all to see. Photos littered itself around the certificate showing his school friends cheering him on. He felt tears threatening to fall once again, because he missed another milestone of his son’s life, _again._ He didn’t know what was worse. Missing out on being there for Jason or seeing the pride in Talia’s eyes as she hugged _his_ son affectionately.

This was wrong.

“Father.” Damian’s voice caught his attention. “We should go.” He said hesitantly. Damian had never seen his father with such a faraway look before. It unnerved him.

Turning around, Tim had secured all of Jason’s digital files and remote navigated the jet closer to Jason’s balcony. Dick and Cassandra held Jason’s body up, wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

“Jeez, B.” Dick huffed keeping his balance. “He weighs more than you do.” He light-heartedly joked.

It was a wrong choice of words because it was just another reminder to Bruce on what he had missed out on. Dick stammered realising his mistake and decided to shut up. Waiting his order, his children kept staring at their brother, trying to take in every detail of his face and frame. By God, was he big. An inch shorter than their father but clearly more muscular. Jason was a Titan. There was not an ounce of baby fat on him, just scarred knuckles and a figure made for one purpose.

_Kill._

Struggling to bark out an order, Bruce settled with grunting a confirmation and left without a word.

He wanted to get out. He _needed_ to get out.

~

It’s kind of sad that Jason wasn’t even surprised that he got kidnapped. Leave it to Bruce ‘I know everything’ Wayne to decide forcibly removing someone from their own home is the right way to introduce the family.

Opening his eyes slowly to the dreary Metropolis safe-house, Jason made a quick assessment of his body, twitching his fingers and toes to test manoeuvrability. The good news was, the drugs wore off. The bad news was that he was cuffed to the makeshift bed.

What made is worse was that they still continued to look down and underestimate him. They strapped him down with _standard_ issue cuffs. The kind cops use for lowly criminals. The kind that Jason knew how to get out of long before Bruce ever taught him.

Wrapping his clothes around the handcuffs buffering the clicks and clinks of metal, Jason made quick work and within seconds had them off without giving away his position.

Sitting up, he eyed the group of vigilantes and almost chuckled at the sight of them too busy at scanning his files that they didn’t even notice their ‘prisoner’ was awake. Everyone, except Cassandra that is.

The two stared at each other. He looked unfazed and she looked at him quizzically. Looking at her family, she quietly made her way towards him, understanding the game he was playing.

She stood a couple of feet away from him and the two cocked their heads to the side, eying the other. They were there for a tense moment until Jason smiled brightly, extending his hand out. She returned the gesture but still stood weary. She had heard stories about this Jason, but she couldn’t seem to place the image of the young boy in the training videos to the grown man sitting on the bed.

Understanding that he didn’t have any intentions to harm her family, she made way onto the bed and the two continued to stare at each other.

 _Hi._ He signed suddenly. Her eyes widened, because she never thought he knew how to converse in sign language. Immediately, she brightened up at the prospect of having another person to talk to.

 _Hi._ She smiled brightly in return and at that moment Jason made the immediate decision that the cinnamon roll sitting in front of him must be protected at all costs. The smile was too pure. _I’m your sister._

It was such an abrupt and spontaneous declaration that had Jason momentarily bewildered. His expression changed into a soft smile. _Then I guess, I’m your big brother._

He almost chuckled at the pout on her face. Shaking her head with determination, she continued. _I’m the big sister. You’re the little brother._

_But I’m older._

Apparently, age is not a factor Cass cares about and condescendingly patted his head. He stuck out his tongue like a child and she retaliated in the same manner.

Talking to Cass, or rather signing, was rather fun. She was considerate, kind but had learnt enough sass from Steph to roast Jason whenever he left an opening. With each minute that went by, she moved closer to him. It was almost comical the size difference between the two, one petite Asian girl that could snap Batman in half and one colossal zombie making goofy faces just so he could see the silent incredulous laughter she let loose.

Jason almost forgot to keep track of time, until he heard a small parade of footsteps and wheelchair creeks making his way towards him.

With his fingers beside his head, making a Batman impersonation, Jason turned around and casually greeted the group. “7 minutes. You’re slippin’ old man.”

If they weren’t in a sterilised and isolated safe-house, one could hear crickets. Jason didn’t mind the silence and dumbfounded expressions. He didn’t have that high pitch pre-teen voice anymore. It was now deep, soothing and comforting which left the group stiffly still.

“What?” Jason asked incredulously. “I know I’m crush worthy, but this is masturbatory, even for me!”

“Language, Master Jason.” Alfred quipped. And with those three words alone the tension in the room disappeared. “My, you’ve grown.”

Flashing his toothy grin, he replied. “Been eating my vegetables, Alfie.” Smacking his biceps. His cheeky expression loosened and he looked down, ashamed? “I missed you.”

A damn broke from those words and Alfred quickly made way crushing him in a hug. It was deadly silent but Jason held firm, ignoring the wet splotch on his shoulder.

“Alfred.” Bruce stepped in. “We still haven’t determined his mental state.”

Leave it to Bruce to ruin a moment and leave it to Alfred to give him a look that made the Bat step backwards. “Ah, don’t worry about it, Al. Just Bruce being Bruce.”

Releasing the butler from the embrace, Jason looked at the people he once called family. “Holy shit, BG.” Barbara perked up at the attention. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

A deep blush rose from her cheeks to her ears. Throwing her head back laughing, she replied. “Still the same flirty shit as ever.”

 _This_ was the Jason she remembered. The one who looked up to women like they were God’s gift to Man, the one that praised and complimented her at every turn. Looking at her now, he didn’t care about her disability, he didn’t care about the wheelchair. Most people, Dick included, looked at her with pity. All they saw was a broken girl with broken dreams. It infuriated her so because she worked hard to overcome her trauma, she worked hard to be Oracle and people discarded it because all they saw was the damn wheelchair.

But not Jason. He understood her pain. He understood her struggle, her pride and her conviction. She might not be the same Batgirl he may remember, but she was still the same badass he once knew and Barbara was eternally grateful for it.

“You always said no to my advances when I was smaller. What about now?” He wiggled his eyes mischievously. Dick balked at the shameless advance.

Before her ex could say anything, she continued the game. “I do like my men muscular.” She said seductively that had Dick squeaking at the obvious teasing against him.

“You. Me. My place. Spaghetti. _Lady and the Tramp_ action.” Jason stated simply, relishing at the face of pure horror plastered on Dick’s head.

Before Barbara could answer, also enjoying the look of utter embarrassment on Dick’s face, Bruce stepped in. “Jason.”

Jason rolled his eyes because he had been averting the obvious train wreck that he was about to cause. “Yes? Daddy dearest?” He mocked. Bruce flinched at being called Dad, even if it was a joke.

“What did Talia do to you?” Seriously? Jason knew Bruce was emotionally stunted but this just pissed him off. No, _I’m glad you’re alive._ No, _I missed you._ Instead he was silently judging the woman who was his mother.

“Nothing.” If they were going to interrogate him, might as well have fun with it.

Jason could see that Bruce was visibly restraining himself. “She must have.” Dick stepped in. “She can’t be your mother, she’s a master manipulator and seductress.”

“Be careful with your words there, Dickie.” Jason’s tone might have conveyed playful teasing but his eyes screamed death. Dick faltered at the sight and took a step back.

Alfred seeing the tension that was arising added his input. “What Master Bruce and Master Dick is trying to convey is that Miss Al Ghul is not someone commonly associated as a mother.”

Jason scoffed at the remark. “It’s not the first time I’ve been adopted by someone who had a penchant for turning kids into child soldiers.” Bruce flinched. Jason’s words cut deep at the implication.

“It’s not the same.” Dick pestered. “Why can’t you see it? She’s just using you.”

Jason just stared at Dick as if he was the stupidest motherfucker on the planet. “Of course I knew she was using me. My treatment and subsequent rehabilitation was all just a gift to Bruce. At the time all I was, was a means to an end. She wanted to gain that fucked up thing that he calls affection and get back into his good books, but she didn’t count on one thing.” Staring at Bruce, deep into his eyes. “I didn’t want to go back.”

“What?” Jason was so tempted to punch Dick in the face for the amount of times he’s interrupted. “That’s insane. Why wouldn’t you want to go home?”

Jason rubbed his temple in annoyance. Dick was smart, he had to be, he used to be Robin, but the fact that Dick seems to be forgotten about all the shit times they had together just peeved Jason off. Or maybe he hasn’t forgotten, but merely brushed it aside, which just infuriated Jason further.

“Oh, I wonder why I didn’t come back.” Jason remarked sarcastically. “Would you like me to list it alphabetically or categorically?” He joked.

Everyone tensed at the remark. _How much baggage is there?_

“Let’s start off with an easy one.” He encouraged. “How every moment, every spare second I lived in that Manor, you reminded me every chance you could that I’ll never be Dick Grayson. Everything I did, everything I achieved was nothing compared to the original Golden Child. _Be like Dick. Dick could have done it better. Dick would have done it like this. Why aren’t you like Dick?_ ” He mocked, the venom in his voice increased as time went by. “You knew how insecure I was, how I had to prove myself over and over again so you wouldn’t throw me out. But not once did you fucking care. I was just a constant reminder of what you’ll never have again. So why would I come back to a house where my supposed father would shove down my throat every spare second he could that I’ll never be what he wants me to be?”

The guilt and shame etched on Bruce’s face said it all. “Jason…” He answered slowly. “You were never Dick’s replacement. I know I wasn’t the best teacher or father but I truly wanted you to be your own man. I never adopted you just because Dick left.”

Silence stretched out and everyone just stared at the two. Slowly and torturously, Jason began to smile. Everyone grimaced at how menacing and utterly terrifying he looked. It was a look that said Bruce had just walked into a trap. “Oh, really?” He drawled out, hoping off the bed and making his way towards the computer.

Without caring about how everyone tensed up him using their system, he made his way inside the network. “You haven’t deleted my passwords. With it I planted a few skeleton routes that connects with my computer. Like I said, you’re slippin’ old man.” He explained. With quick taps of keyboard, he pressed play on a particular audio file.

_~ Start Transmission ~_

_What the fuck Bruce? Is this to punish me for leaving? Why the hell did you adopt Jason? Why the hell is there a new Robin? Robin was mine. Robin was my family legacy, a legacy my mother and father gave me and you just up and gave it away to an orphan street kid. So why did you give him **my** colours?_

_…Jason is gifted. But he’s filled with misguided anger and frustration. He reminds me of myself just after my parents were killed. I really believe if I left him on his own, he would be dead by now. Training him as Robin channelled those self-destructive energies towards a positive goal. In my own way, I believe I saved his life._

_There are hundreds of ways to help an angry kid. Therapy, social interactions, anything but putting him in a brightly coloured bullseye and sending him to fight scumbags. Tell me the truth._

_…Batman needs a Robin._

_For fuck sake, Bruce. Batman doesn’t need a Robin. You didn’t need me before you took me under your wing. THE TRUTH._

_*Crash* All right. I admit it. I was lonely. I missed you._

_~ End Transmission ~_

Everyone stood there speechless, reeling at Bruce’s words. Jason was just a means to fill a void between Dick and Bruce. Sure, Bruce might have grown to love him, but that idea will always be tucked in the deepest crest of his mind. Jason was a means to make himself feel better.

“Jaylad…” Bruce’s heart was stuck in his throat. “I…It was selfish…. _I_ was selfish. Dick left and I tried to fill that void in my life the best I could. I know my intentions was misguided and wrong. But I’m so glad I did, because you’re my son.”

The look of total disbelief on Jason’s face broke their hearts because they could tell Jason had more up his sleeve. Scoffing at the confession, he asked. “I’m your son? Really? I guess it’s true. I mean that’s why you adopted me. It’s on my adoption papers, so I must be your son.” The way he mocked Bruce with his tone raised the tension through the roof. “But for some reason I remember very vividly that you said otherwise.”

Alfred and Barbara gasped at his words. _He did what?_ Dick and Tim whipped their heads, glaring at their father, practically pleading him to deny it. “Let me take you back. It was like any other night. I was Robin. You were Batman. We were taking down criminals. I was a little too angry for your taste and after we rounded up the scumbags, you gave me your world famous bat-lectures.” He said with a sadistic smile.

Bruce’s stomach plummeted, because the memories of that night came rushing back. “ _I don’t understand what’s gotten into you. **I’m not your father, Jason.** I don’t need teen rebellion.”_

Jaws dropped.

Everyone (except Damian) was livid, but none of the glares and disapproving looks of the family’s face compared to the look of absolute fury in Cass’s eyes towards Bruce. She looked like death incarnate and it had Jason almost feeling bad for the man….almost. It appeared she was taking this new big sister role very seriously.

“Jason…I’m so – ”

“Granted, this wasn’t what pushed me over the edge when I came back.” He continued. “Take a few shots to the head with a crowbar and loss of brain cells from lack of oxygen in your coffin tends to make you forget things.” Everyone grimaced at how nonchalantly he spoke about his injuries. Everyone except Cass, who saw the barely restrained anger and fear underneath the façade.

“I walked around Gotham brain dead for quite some time….” Staring hard at Bruce. “Waiting for you. Apparently, according to Talia, despite my vegetative state, I only knew two words. _Bruce_ and _Dad._ ”

Everything just felt wrong, listening to Jason’s story. Despite their differences, Jason still loved Bruce enough to call for protection and safety. Bruce was hyperventilating at the confession. Jason…his son, had been calling for his father for god knows how long and Bruce wasn’t there for him. Just like he wasn’t there for him in Ethiopia.

“A few things happened here and there until Talia picked me up and took me to Nanda Parbat to be healed.” Jason chuckled darkly at the memory which had everyone nervously watching. “One trip into the Lazarus Pit later turned me into a perfectly healthy but insane Jason Todd. Freshly made for Bruce’s approval.”

Dick using the opportunity to derail the conversation back to Talia, stepped in. “Exactly! Why do you trust her so much? She was just using you to get to Bruce.”

Jason laughed almost maniacally at the statement, throwing his head back. Calming himself down, with a low, deep voice, Jason explained darkly. “You should all be grateful. She didn’t keep me to spite Bruce. She kept me to _save_ Bruce.”

Jason took great joy in watching Bruce’s face change from guilt to confusion to horror. “She held me back so I wouldn’t walk right back to Gotham and put a bullet in your skull.”

“But you just said that you loved Bruce enough to call for him.” His replacement questioned. “Why would you want to kill him?”

Looking between the group, Jason’s eyes stopped on Barbara. Or rather, his eyes stopped on her wheelchair. “Because the bastard that murdered me is still alive.” He said simply. The deathly silence stretched out and everything made perfect sense. Jason was dead. Joker was not.

It was a slow and torturous chuckle but it sent shivers tingling up their spine. “I thought I actually meant something to you, Bruce. All this bullshit about how I’m your son and how you’ll always be there for me…and you let him live.” Jason shook his head darkly at the thought.

“He took me away from you. He took me away just for shits and giggles and what did you do?” His voice raised. “6 months in a body cast. That’s it. You didn’t kill him, you didn’t paralyse him, and you just left him. To heal, to escape, to kill again. You. Did. Nothing.” He seethed out.

“Jason…please.” Bruce begged. “You must understand – ”

“Oh, I fucking understand.” He growled out. “Bruce, the almighty God, Wayne cares more about his mission than his own children.” Bruce flinched at the harsh words. “I thought we were more than that. I thought we were more than just some pawns for your crusade. I thought I was your son….I thought wrong.”

“I wasn’t worth it.”

Jason almost laughed at the look of shame on Bruce’s face. For 6 years, he had waited for this moment. For 6 years, he healed his body and mind for tonight. For 6 years, he played every possible scenario, every possible angle. And now, standing in front of Bruce, the man who claimed to be his father but also not. It felt cathartic. Freeing. It felt good.

“Bruce loved you.” Tim spoke up. “He still loves you. After you died, he mourned for you and it broke him.”

“Ah, yes…my replacement.” Jason said darkly. Walking up to Red Robins face, he eyed the young man with curiosity with a hint of malice. Everyone was on their toes, ready to step in. “I was pissed when I found out he replaced me with you. For months, I stayed up wide awake planning your murder.” Everyone’s eyes widened at the declaration and Damian stood by the side with a smug smile on his face.

“A better Robin. A better son. A way to remove the stain that I left on his legacy.” Tim tried to counter but stopped after Jason put a hand up. “How did it feel, Bruce? That a random kid, walked up to your front door and demanded to be Robin. How did it feel when you found out how smart he was? How resourceful he was? …How obedient he was? Just like Dick, you replaced me so you could feel better about yourself. You replaced me so you wouldn’t have to think about _your greatest failure._ ”

“That’s not true.” Tim finally debated. “He was getting into more fights, getting more injuries. I stepped in because Batman needs a Robin. I never meant to replace you, Jason. You were my hero.”

The dark, cruel smile on Jason’s face turned into something fond and warm. Ruffling the kid’s hair with affection, he continued. “Aw, thanks, replacement.” Tim’s cheeks were bright red. “I know that now. But back then, I wasn’t really in the right mindset. PTSD and pit madness tends to do that to you. No hard feelings, right?”

Tim’s face brightened up considerably. His hero just handed him an olive branch and he happily accepted it. Nodding furiously at the question, he almost forgot how to speak.

“With time, thanks to Talia, I settled down and my anger towards Bruce changed.” He further explained. “I should have been the last Robin.” He said darkly and everyone stilled.

“The Robin that died. The Robin that failed. You should have learnt your lesson and never brought another child into this war, ever again. But you did, just so you could feel better about yourself. Because, that’s what this entire crusade is about. You putting yourself and children in harm’s way, just so you can feel like you mean something, so you can distract yourself from actually thinking about your actions. Everything you did, everything you’ve done has always been an excuse to throw around your man-pain. You used my death as a guilt trip card.”

Alfred, the lord himself, finally chimed in, putting a piece of his mind for all to hear. “Master Jason. As much as I understand your reasoning, it is absurd that you think Master Bruce would classify your death as something so minor. You’re death broke him.”

Shaking his head in sadness, Jason spoke. “Alfred. I love you. But you’re wrong.” Turning his attention to Stephanie, he continued. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Steph scratched her arm nervously. “Yeah…” She nodded slowly. Jason hated the look of sadness and defeat of Alfred’s face. But it needed to be done. He was not going to keep being a tool for Bruce’s use.

“Do you know how many hours I had to sit down and listen to the audio logs? The bullshit you said about me? At first I thought you were broken…” Jason was struggling to speak. “But…but then you started to blame me for my death. You blamed a child for his death.” Everyone stilled at his words.

Bruce’s mind was screaming, pleading for Jason to stop. This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t how he was going to get Jason back. “ _Jason was insubordinate, volatile, and unstable._ ” Jason quoted. “Do you remember those words? You should! You said it. You talked about how much of a failure I was, how you should never be like Jason Todd, how stupid I was. Don’t be like Jason. Not listening to orders will get you killed like Jason. Jason didn’t think things through. Don’t be a fuck up like Jason.” Jason gritted his jaw hard, trying to talk.

Stephanie was proud for Jason. She, out of the entire family, experienced the bullshit Bruce had to say about Jason the most. Everyone else had their eyes down casted at the memory.

“You disregarded my death because that’s all you ever thought about me. A rat that never thought things through. You thought I was a cocky little shit who believed he could take on the Joker so I could earn your approval. You thought I rushed in without thinking things through.”

“Joker was never part of the plan.” Jason said slowly and everyone’s eyes whipped up, wondering what he meant. “He wasn’t supposed to even be in Ethiopia. Wrong place, wrong time but you didn’t care. Jason Todd got himself killed because he was a stubborn little shit. That’s what you thought.”

Bruce’s face couldn’t decide what to show. Horror, guilt, shame, pain. It showed it all. “Then why did you go?”

Jason just stared at him with a blank look. Waving off the question, he answered. “Why should I answer to you? It’s clear what you’ve thought about me. You moved on without me. And now, so have I.”

“Jason…” Bruce was breaking, trying to think of what to say. “If I had known you were alive, if I had known you were waiting for me, I would have come for you.”

Jason chuckled at a thought. “When she adopted me, for the briefest of moments I thought you would care. I thought that you would investigate why Talia decided to step into the limelight and adopt a kid named Jason. But you didn’t.” Bruce wanted the ground to swallow him.

“You didn’t want to think about Jason Todd. You declared me to be media taboo. Every news article or mention of my name was discarded and forgotten. And when Talia and I went and had myself legally resurrected, you didn’t show up. You brushed it off without a care in the world and I waited in that courtroom, with a jury judging me for taking Bruce Wayne’s sons name.”

“Because my legal guardian never showed up, the system had to follow procedure and allow the closest adult figure that was willing to take me to have full custody. You didn’t lose me because of Talia. You lost me to yourself.”

Bruce didn’t know what to do, what to think, what to say. He stood there reliving every moment he humiliated his son’s memory and realised Jason was right. He wasn’t Jason’s father. He was a failure.

“Now.” Jason clapped, shaking Bruce out of his self-brooding. “Back to the original question of why Talia and I are a family.” Bruce couldn’t listen. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear the reason why she was a better parent than Bruce.

“She accepts me.” It was simple but packed with meaning. Bruce flinched at the implication. “We never intended to become mother and son. At first, I stayed by her side to further my own training but with time we grew closer. She accepted me. She didn’t restrain me, only stepping in when I needed it. I love her because she trusts me.”

“I love the way she would hold me at night when I have nightmares. I love the way she encourages my decisions. I love the way she tries to learn how to cook in secret just so she can surprise me after a hard day of work. I love her because she sees me more than just a soldier. She sees me as a son. More than you ever did.”

“ _Tt_. You have no right to be considered her son. Mother would never consider a simpleton like yourself to be family.” Damian mocked.

“Damian!” Dick tried to stop him, but Damian continued.

“I’m glad you’re not a part of this family. You’re a failure, Todd. You always will be and I wait for the day Mother realises what a mistake it was to ever adopt you.”

Jason’s face was devoid of emotion and slowly made his way towards the little brat. Bruce tensed up, not wanting to fight, but still had to be prepared. It was only the strong grip of Cassandra holding him back, silently telling him to watch, that made him begrudgingly reconsider.

Damian, seeing Jason’s advances, readied himself. “That’s it, Todd. Once I have you on the ground with my knife to your throat, you’ll remind everyone here why you never came back. You’re weak, a coward, and an imbecile. A disgrace to the Robin legacy.”

Jason was mere millimetres away from Damian and everyone watched nervously at what was about to happened, slowly and deliberately Jason kneeled down and crush the kid in a hug. No-one except Cass understood what was going on. Was this death by affection?

“Unhand me, Todd.” Damian screamed, flailing and kicking, in order to get out, but Jason held on. The grown man ignored the hits, he ignored the blood slowly trickling down his face, he ignored the new bruises he was receiving and just hugged tighter.

“She misses you, brat.” He whispered into Damian’s ear that had the young Robin faltering.

Bruce watched the wide-eyed reaction. He watched Damian slowly lower his hands until it hung limply at his side. Bruce knew he wasn’t the greatest of fathers but watching the son who grew up hating him console his youngest ripped his heart apart. The room froze over when Damian released an audible sob. One drop led to two until it became a torrent of tears and mucus.

Damian missed her too.

Bruce didn’t just take a son from a mother. He had taken a mother away from a son and he felt destroyed by it. He of all people knew what it was like to lose one’s parents but in a moment of pride and anger had done the same thing to Damian and Talia.

He thought it was the right decision. It was for Damian’s safety. Away from the League. Away from Ras. He thought that Damian would be grateful for Bruce assuming custody. Apparently, he thought wrong. There was something more about Talia. Something he didn’t know and he ignored it because of his own history with the woman and took her son from her. _How many sons have I failed?_

Dick ran up and cradled the little bird once Jason let go. “I might not be the man you want me to be. But I don’t care anymore. I’m the man _I_ want to be and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.” Jason looked at Bruce with conviction.

Turning to Tim, he extended his hands. “I’ve read your file. You’re good, Timbo. But don’t let all of this get to you. Don’t become Bruce.” Tim nodded at the suggestion and shook his hand. “I’m glad I was your hero.” Tim’s face was as red as a tomato which left Jason chuckling at the sight.

Pulling away towards Stephanie. “If he ever gives you shit and says you _pulled a Jason_. You can come to me and bitch about it. I’ll cook you some Fajitas.”

“You better keep your promise, dead wonder.” Steph replied cheerily before tackling him into a hug. Chuckling at the sudden gesture, he hugged her back and patted her back. He understood her hidden message. Steph liked Jason. Jason was awesome.

“Barbs.” Barbara wheeled towards him and he knelt down, hugging her fiercely. “I know you’ve moved on from the Joker…”

“But?” She urged.

“But…my company has been making advances in bio-medicine and surgical engineering. We haven’t perfected the procedure yet but we’re so close, BG. If you would like I could bump you up to the first one on our waiting list. I can give you your legs back.”

She gasped at the declaration. Trembling in his embrace, she quietly asked. “I can fly again? Out there? With the Birds and Bats?”

Pulling away, staring deep into her eyes, he nodded slowly. “It’s up to you.”

She stared wide-eyed at him and pulled him into a tighter hug. He held on, not caring about how long the hug was taking. He ignored the stares and held on until the trembling stopped. Releasing him, Barbara sent him a grateful look.

Jason almost jumped when Cass suddenly appeared by their side. She must have noticed how his muscles twitched and sent him a mischievous smile. _Are we still brother and sister?_ She signed.

_If you want to._

_Will you visit?_

_If you’d let me. I’ll even teach you how to speak._ She perked up considerably and smiled brightly at the thought. God, that damn smile was intoxicating and happily let her hug him fiercely.

Breaking away. _Goodbye, little brother._ Jason rolled his eyes at her obstinacy to keep calling him that. Nodding his goodbye, he turned to the last person of the group that he actually wanted to talk to.

“I have to go, Alfie.” He hated the crestfallen face on his grandfather’s face but he had to accept it. Bruce wasn’t his father and that just made it harder to go and see Alfred.

“Make sure to call every so often, young sir.” Pulling him into a crushing hug. “I’m glad you found happiness.”

Jason felt tears threatening to fall. 6 years he had missed this. “I will, Alfie.” His voice croaked.

~

Truth be told, Jason expected Talia to be on a rampage the moment she found out he was taken. He certainly did not expect her to be drinking tea, waiting for him. He smiled gratefully at the action. Once again she showed him that she trusted his actions. Laying on the coffiee table before her was a small pile of camera’s and listening devices Bruce and Co. had planted.

Having one look at Jason, she put her cup down and went to the bathroom, grabbing the first-aid kit. “I see you had a chat with them.” She stated, plopping herself back on the couch waiting for him.

“Sure did.” He answered simply, wincing a bit as she pressed the antiseptic into the cut on his forehead.

“Did Bruce do this?” He could hear the revulsion in her tone.

“Nah. The brat did. He misses you.” Her hands faltered on his head for the briefest of moments. Without a word, she continued her treatment.

The two sat there in silence. A mother trying to heal her child. Her touch was gentle but efficient. Soothing but precise. After everything was cared for, she placed the equipment back into the kit and gently kissed his temple.

“I’m proud of you my son.”

He hummed at the confirmation and leaned back into the sofa pulling her along. The two cuddled against each other for some time as he stroked her hair. They were both tired and desperately needed to relax, easing the stress of the past couple of days away.

Talia cursed when her phone started buzzing. She had made it clear to all her subordinates that she must never be contacted outside work hours unless it was an emergency. An intern had made that mistake in the past which led to Jason physically holding her back from literally ripping the kid a new one.

“What?!” She hissed into the phone. Her anger and malice short circuited as she listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. Moving her hand in front of her mouth, Jason could see the tears about to fall. “Habibi?” She whispered in wonder.

Talia whipped her head at Jason and he gave her a knowing smile. Quickly getting off the couch she made her way towards her bedroom to talk in private.

Jason didn’t follow or tried to listen in. Talia had wished for this moment for years. A chance to talk to her first son. Jason understood the need for privacy and let her have it. He has grown past the jealous and insecure stage of his life.

A few minutes later, Talia exited the bedroom and stood still at the entrance way staring at Jason in wonder and disbelief. If Jason had blinked he would have missed seeing the Arabian beauty fly at him, pinning him down to the couch with a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Holding her tightly back, he merely stayed silent and let her have this peaceful moment. With her head against his chest, she fumbled out. “Wha-How-When?”

He chuckled at the memory. “When the brat was picking a fight with me, I slipped him your number. Like I said, he misses you so I figured to give him your private number. He’s smart enough to know to never call you with any of the others around.”

She hugged him tighter as thanks and just held on, not wanted to ever let go.

Talia had given Jason the world and in turn he did the same to her. He had given her a chance to be with her sons.

Both her sons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done.!!  
> Sorry for not finishing earlier. I'm a little bit crammed with university assignments.
> 
> The part where Bruce talks to Dick about adopting Jason because he felt lonely is canon. I couldn't find the link because its sooo old, so I used what I could remember. The wording might not be exact so please don't scream.
> 
> Another part that is canon, is when Bruce admits he isn't Jason's father:   
> http://funnypages.tumblr.com/post/177907030066/dickish-batdad
> 
> If this was before he was legally adopted, please let me know because I'm not too sure, but I used it anyway.


End file.
